


Dream Things True

by eponine119



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28161843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eponine119/pseuds/eponine119
Summary: Juliet tells Sawyer she dreamed of him.
Relationships: Juliet Burke/James "Sawyer" Ford
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Dream Things True

Dream Things True  
by eponine119  
October 13, 2020

Juliet dreams. 

She dreams about James. They're having some inane conversation that makes sense in dream-world, and then he pulls her into his arms. He holds her close, and she feels the heat of his body soaking into hers, the way his bones and muscles are hard against her. She smells the faintest scent of cologne on his skin. She looks up at him, meeting his eyes, and she knows they're about to kiss –

That's when the damn alarm goes off, beeping and bleating. It takes Juliet a moment to come to full consciousness and understand that she is in fact in bed, alone, in her room in one of the Dharma Initiative houses. She pushes the snooze button with a groan and sinks back into the pillow, thinking maybe she can go back to the dream for another minute before the alarm rings again. 

But she can't. She's too awake to drift off now. She closes her eyes, drawing the soft, warm covers closer around her body, thinking about the part of the dream that she remembers, which is James. His body against hers, the look in his eyes, and what was about to come next. 

She knows she should be asking herself what the hell is going on in her subconscious, but relaxed and warm, she doesn't mind it. It was a really nice dream. She wonders what it might be like in real life, for James to hold her like that. Never mind that he'd probably smell more of sweat than soap. She knows he never would – never will – hold her that way. Or look at her with heat in his darkened eyes. 

She's lonely. She turns over and stares at the clock, waiting for her six-minute snooze to run out and force her up. She supposes she knew this about herself before, but it took the dream to bring it into the light. Things have been too crazy for her to really miss having a relationship – or friends. But now, now there is that little light in her heart that she knows will grow into yearning if she doesn't stamp it out, fast. 

The alarm cries out again as she thinks about Jack. He was more than a means to an end, but she never dreamed about him, either, and their kisses were never anything to be excited about. There was never going to be anything between them, and she knew that. 

She supposes she knows that about James, too. In the shower, she toys with the idea of kissing him, the way she did Jack, just to see what would happen. James isn't the kind of man to stand by closed-mouthed. But he's also the kind of man who'd shove her away and devastate her with words. It's safer not to try it. They are almost friends, and that mostly works. 

She can still feel the pressure of his dream-body against hers as she twists her hair up into a ponytail, ready to face another day at the motor pool. 

A couple of hours into her shift, James saunters into the motor pool. From the way he swivels his head, she knows instinctively that he's looking for her, and she steps back, putting one of the vans between them. She wraps one arm around her stomach and pushes away thoughts of the dream she had last night. 

“Juliet!” It's her boss's voice calling her. She nods once, steeling herself, then steps out from behind the blue VW with an innocent look on her face, as though she wasn't just hiding. 

“Got a breakdown at the Orchid,” James says to her. “Need you to give me a hand.” 

Her eyebrows draw together as she looks at him, trying to determine if he's speaking in some kind of code, and if so, what it's code for. Or if there really is a broken down vehicle in the jungle. “I can handle it,” she offers, reaching for a set of jeep keys, watching his reaction. 

“Uh-uh,” he says, taking her wrist to stop her. “Orchid's off-limits except to security personnel. I'm comin' with you.” She looks up at him again. “Besides, I'm gonna need you to drive the breakdown back here.” 

“What about --” she begins to ask, but he gives her a quick shake of his head and she stops. So something happened. Something secret. Something that prevents the driver of the broken down car from bringing it back. She wonders why he didn't radio someone who's already at the Orchid Station, but decides she doesn't really want to know. It might just be more time travel shenanigans, but then she thinks Miles and Jin would be nearby. Maybe they're waiting in the jungle for them. She lets out a breath, letting all of this go, and climbs into the passenger seat next to James. 

He hits the gas, heading out of the village. “What was that about?” she asks. 

James just looks at her. She watches his hands on the steering wheel as he bounces the car around a corner.

“James,” she says, with some caution, whether for him or for herself, she's not quite sure. “What's going on?” 

“Brokedown van, just like I said.” He glances at her, and then looks away, back through the windshield. 

She draws a deep breath and lets it out, saying nothing. “Why didn't you get Lenny or Joe?” 

“Cause I wanted you,” he says, in a low voice that resonates deep within her bones. It reminds her of her dream, and she sits there now, studying his face and watching him drive. He notices and glances at her curiously before redirecting his gaze to watch where they're going. 

“I had a dream about you,” she announces. 

“Oh really,” he says playfully. 

She rolls her eyes and looks out the window, almost wishing she hadn't said anything. 

“Well, ain'tcha gonna tell me about it?” 

“Do you ever have dreams about me?” she asks. 

“I don't remember what I dream,” he says, and she knows he's lying. It intrigues her. Has he dreamed about her? And what would it mean if he did? He hits the brakes. “We're here.” 

“It's a lot shorter riding than walking,” Juliet observes, and gets out. There's a Jeep parked in front of the station, and it seems like it's fine. The keys are in it, and she slides into the seat and tries it. The ignition grinds and she pops the hood, going to take a look. 

James ambles alongside her, looking over her shoulder as she checks out the engine. 

“Toolbox?” she says, looking at him. “Should be in the back.” 

“Let me just get that for you then,” he says, irritated, but he goes and fetches the metal box, which is painted the same blue shade as the vehicles. Yellow houses and blue cars, she thinks. They don't blend in with the jungle. 

She finds the problem with the engine and fixes it easily, standing back and watching James to make sure he's clear as she drops the hood back into place. “Give it a try,” she says, smoothing her hands over her hair to push back the strands that have come loose from her ponytail. James turns the key and it starts right up. He lets out a celebratory whoop, even though it's just an engine. Then he shuts it back down. 

“I suppose I'm driving it back,” she says. “That's why you came out here with me? Two cars, two drivers.” 

“What's the rush,” he says, out of the car and leaning against it again, looking at the expanse of jungle, the sky, and finally at the Orchid station. 

“It's funny being back here,” she says. The last time they were here, time was flashing around them, impossibly. Their heads ached and noses dripped with blood. She turns away, suddenly sad, when she thinks about Charlotte. And Daniel. And how Daniel loved Charlotte but never actually did anything about it. She looks at James again. It was just a dream. It didn't mean anything. 

“Think if we could find the well, we could go back?” he asks. 

“Too risky,” she dismisses the idea. “We could end up anywhere. Any time. It's not so bad here.” 

He raises his eyebrows like he'll allow it. “Thought you wanted to go home.” 

“There'll be another way,” she says, like she believes it, because she has to believe it. 

“Tell me more about this dream of yours,” he invites. She watches him shake his hair back and then he levels an intense gaze at her. 

“It was about like you'd expect,” she says, hesitantly. 

“We were doin' it?” 

“Maybe not like you'd expect, then,” Juliet says, but she can't help but smile a little. 

“Then what was goin' on?” he asks.

She suddenly feels shy, and it seems so minor. It was just a nice dream, and she should have kept it for herself. “You had your arms around me,” she says finally. 

“Y'all had a dream about getting hugged?” he asks, and she isn't sure whether he's teasing her or not. 

“Yeah,” she admits. 

He pushes off the Jeep where he's been leaning against it. “C'mere.” 

Juliet doesn't move. She just looks at him, a little warily, although what's the worst that could happen? 

“Come on,” he invites. He isn't going to come to her. She'll have to go to him if this is what she wants. And this, she decides, is what she wants. She walks over to him, with her hands in her pockets, and then stands in front of him. 

“The Others don't hug?” he challenges. 

She wishes he'd stop using that against her, but she supposes that he never will. She'll never be anything more than an Other to him. 

In the next moment, he wraps his arms around her, enveloping her in a deep, hard hug. It leaves her breathless. He puts one hand on the back of her head and presses her against his shoulder while squeezing her gently, and all it does is make her feel safe and cared for. She slides her arms around his waist, burrowing in despite herself. In this moment, she feels like all she's wanted for the longest time is to be held. 

His body is scaldingly hot against hers, and the cotton of his button-down shirt is soft. Her lips brush against it as he holds her. She wants to lift her head and look into his eyes, but she also wants to stay right here. 

They shift and move apart. His hands slides along the length of her ponytail. When he tugs lightly on the end of it, she can feel it deep down in the core of her body. She looks down, feeling his eyes on her, and then she summons all her courage to look at him. She isn't sure what she's expecting, but it's not the soft look that she gets. 

“You're a really good hugger,” she says, and instantly regrets it because it's so stupid. 

“I'm a good kisser, too,” he brags. 

“I bet.” Her ears are ringing and her head feels hollow. 

He's quiet, and when she looks at him, she can tell it's because he doesn't know what to say. He's looking at her. “Life's short,” he says, projecting a little. 

“Excuse me?” She doesn't understand.

“You gotta ask for it. Go after what you want. Cause this life is damned short,” he elaborates. 

“What do you want, James?” she asks. 

“Come on over here, and you can find out,” he offers.

She shifts one foot and cocks her head to contemplate him. Trying to decide on his intention. He's not teasing. She thinks he means it. But he isn't going to come to her, either. Part of her wonders why, as she's deciding whether it matters to her. Does she need for him to want her, or is going along with it enough? 

Maybe he needs her to want him. She takes a tentative step, wanting him to meet her halfway. Not that they are standing very far apart to begin with. 

“You a good kisser, Juliet?” he asks softly. 

“Why don't you find out?” she invites, and he does take that last half-step to meet her. She looks up at him. He gives something like a nod before tilting his head and closing the space between them. His lips touch hers gently and she thinks her heart stops for a moment. He kisses her more firmly, her mouth opening under his as she kisses him back. 

The kiss breaks and he looks at her, almost curiously, before he kisses her again, slow and measured and almost lazy, like his drawl, like he doesn't want anything more than this. He holds her, arms tightening around her just for a moment before he lets her go. 

She looks at him, blinking, feeling her heart racing. She doesn't know what to say. He smiles at her and she smiles back. He reaches out and takes her hand for a second, twining his fingers through hers before dropping it and looking at her again. 

“So,” she says, because it could lead anywhere. She thought maybe if she started a sentence, the rest would follow. But maybe not. 

“So,” he agrees. 

“Am I good kisser, James?” she asks, teasing and afraid. 

“Yeah,” he replies roughly. “I was hopin' for a little practice makes perfect.” 

“Were you,” she says, in a low voice. 

He meets her eyes again. “I was,” he says, like he needs her to hear it and understand it. That she wasn't the only one wanting something. 

“Is this the beginning of something?” she asks. 

“I don't know,” he says. “I think it already started.” He looks away, at the trees and the sky. “We should be gettin' back.” He sighs. “You got any other dreams you wanna act out in real life, you just let me know.” 

“Like the one where there's a test I haven't studied for?” 

“I was thinkin' more like sex dreams, but okay.” 

“Do you have those kinds of dreams?” she asks. 

“Doesn't everybody?” 

She shakes her head. 

“First time for everything,” he suggests. 

She tries to think of an answer for that, wondering what a sexy dream about him would be like. If she would really tell him about it. 

“Juliet.” She looks at him at the sound of her name, and he kisses her again, his mouth hot and open against hers, his big hands tangling through her hair, making a ruin of her ponytail. 

It won't be long, she thinks. And it won't be in a dream. She suddenly can't wait. Neither, she thinks, can he. 

(end)


End file.
